


Time off

by mintybears



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Canon Era, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Innuendo, mentioned Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:55:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29281056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mintybears/pseuds/mintybears
Summary: Johnny has an idea -- something he and David could do together. David is less than enthusiastic.
Relationships: David Rose & Johnny Rose
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Time off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SoVeryAverageMe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoVeryAverageMe/gifts).



“What.”

“Now, David, before you say anything - ”

“Are those? Ancient pogo sticks?” David concluded his question by pulling his upper body back toward the doorway he’d just walked through, just in case the possibly-pogo-sticks were contaminated. With what, he wasn’t sure, but they looked ancient and he couldn’t afford to take any chances. If he died of some mysterious illness, he wouldn’t be able to see Patrick anymore, or revel in the feeling of spreading a soft cloud of locally made face cream on his skin, or...

“They’re _medieval swords_ ,” Johnny replied. “Made of wood, obviously, so nobody can actually get stabbed.”

 _Obviously,_ said he, like everyone should know at a glance. David tentatively moved closer. “Okay. And the non-stabby, wooden medieval swords are in here why?”

“They’re for authentic sword-fighting.”

David’s mood swung from concerned to...well, still concerned, but with images of multiple penises swaying to and fro in his mind’s eye. He held out his arms in a gesture of defeat, raising his eyebrows at Johnny.

“Roland — yes, I know — Roland and a couple of the other guys have been getting into, what’s it called, historical martial arts? From the Middle Ages. Supposed to be great for fitness and, uh, aggression issues.”

That made sense; their fellow Schitt’s Creek residents did a lot of suppressing behind those small-town serene façades. On the other hand, thanks to _the Middle Ages_ , the penises in his mental image (incredibly non-enticing, considering) were now attached to tattered animal-hide underwear. “Ew.”

“They haven’t actually tried it yet, just watched videos about it, but they’re looking for more people to join their class.”

“Once again, ew.”

“I thought you might enjoy it.”

“Seriously? This is like the basketball court thing all over again. Also the baseball thing! You know I don’t do sports.”

“Sword-fighting is different! It’s more, y’know, artistic. It can be choreographed like a dance.”

“Dad, there is no way Roland and Bob waving dirty, splintery sticks around is going be even close to artistic.”

“It’s not like th - I’ll have you know, based on decades of experience watching your mother film scenes with sword-fighting - ”

David held up a hand over his face. That probably wouldn’t shield him from all this, but it was worth a try. “ _Please_ stop saying ‘sword-fighting’.”

“What? What’s wrong with sword-fighting?”

“Oh my god! It...it doesn’t matter. Whatever it’s called, I’m not doing it. No way.”

Somehow, he didn’t expect his dad’s shoulders to sag quite as much as they did. Had he been too harsh? He knew he had a tendency to be too harsh, though it wasn’t totally unwarranted all the time, was it? It wasn’t his fault that some people lived their lives steeped in wrongness like they were tea leaves from the Wrongness Plant.

To be fair, he wouldn’t consider his dad one of those people. Usually.

“Um, Dad?”

“It’s fine,” Johnny said after a beat. “It’s not mandatory.”

Great — now the eyebrows and mouth were sagging as well. David hurried to do damage control: “Look, why don’t we skip that,” he said, waving a hand toward the not-pogo-sticks, “and do something together instead?”

The change in Johnny’s face was astounding. In the space of a second or two, the clouds cleared and the features righted themselves like flowers waking up to the morning sun. “What do you have in mind?”

“Well.” David folded his arms, buying himself time by pretending he had it all figured out and could afford to be leisurely. Inside, he willed his mind to work faster. What could they do together? Something not sporty or sweaty or medieval, but something…something… _a-ha._

“You could help me rearrange the wine displays at the store. Or!” he hastened to add, seeing a powerful eyebrow ready to rise, “or, you could help me watch Patrick rearrange the wine displays at the store while _we_ drink wine and sample the cheese collection.”

“Will Patrick be okay with that?”

“He’ll have to be.” David wasn’t entirely sure, but if he believed in anything, it was his ability to persuade his boyfriend. Getting to ogle Patrick’s bum as he bent over the shelves would be a fantastic bonus. “I think with a little convincing, he’ll see that you deserve to spend your time off in leisure, bonding with your favourite son - ”

“You’re my only son.”

“ - with your favourite son, indulging in the finest luxuries his store has to offer. Not being beaten up by a knight from the year 1255 or whatever.”

Johnny chuckled, his lips finally firming up into a smile. He gave a short nod in that particular way he had, and David felt certain for once that he hadn’t fucked things up between them. “Lead the way.”


End file.
